I

Today, was the same as yesterday. I got up, felt a mouse at my feet quickly killed it and ate it as a small breakfast. I was the first one in my tent up, the other 6 still sleeping with the snakes and mice, my brother . I quickly reported to the officer (my brother) and asked what time it was. He pulled out a pocket watch and said it was 7:00 o’clock. I then asked if it would be ok to go and chop some firewood, and the captain (like always) said sure. I went to the surgeon, got some more bug cream, which by now I have gotten used to the stench of pig fat and oil. In the woods it’s quite peaceful, and you can sometimes think a little. We are out in yorktown, it’s late September, so I am a little cold in my work shirt. I cut down a small tree and decide that I should get back to camp. In camp I drop off the wood and went back to my tent to see everyone gone, not surprising. I went to my friends tent, he’s a late sleeper. When I got there I saw him sleeping, I chuckled a little and went over to wake him up. I got to him and shook him, nothing happened, I shook harder, nothing and I could feel my smile melt away. I kept on shaking him harder and harder wait hoping that there would be a response, and finally when I had the courage to put holding in my tears, looking at his closed eyes. After what felt like forever I got up and told the captain. He said he would do his best to get him a proper burial, but I knew he wouldn’t get one.

II

“The continental army” my dad said “*cough, cough*, your really should join you brother in the *cough* continental army”. I looked up at my dad, sick poor dying and decided that maybe I should. “If I do join the army” I said “no one can look after you”. My dad looked me in the eye and said, “I will be fine”. That was three weeks ago, I have joined a militia and after weeks of drills, commands and ranks we’re finally being put into the battlefield. The journey to war was awful. We were traveling to New York to defend it. The trip was endless, we marched rested marched set up camp tried to sleep, got up and marched more. The Higher officers were riding horses at the front not tiring, just looking ahead and I thought how could they do that. After weeks of marching we reached New York, and I quickly got assigned a post on Staten Island. This was the worst assignment possible. There were very few people here, everyone was sad, the militias didn’t like us that much and of course the condition was awful. I was sleeping with no straw a luxury I missed dearly and rock, no blankets or pillows just rocks. One day in summer the british began arriving and that is when things got alarming. Everyone rushed to posts panicking grabbing guns, and nothing happened. In less than a week the british were reinforced and we knew that we were desperately outnumbered. The british were beginning to board small ships, what was happening! We were running into our ranks to get ready and then BAM! The local militias were firing at us! We were panicking rushing dying all just trying to get back to the rest of the army. I was the only person in my tent of 6 that survived, the rest were shot and either died or were taken prisoner. On the small ships I knew we weren’t safe, there were still bullets flying past our ears, but also we were running to manhattan where their was bound to be an invasion. Next to me sat my only friend, Thomas. Thomas was a normal soldier nothing special, just like me. It was only 1 minute on the ships before he was shot. He got shot in the back of the shoulder and had to endure the agony for what felt like ages before we made it to Manhattan, and by then he wasn’t going to make it.